Never Again
by SLWalker
Summary: Wherein Sabretooth learns the hard way never again to make a bet with Birdy. What sort of torment can an alphalevel telepathic assassin's sidekick think up? Rated high for language.


**_Never Again_**  
  
By: Stephanie Watson (SLWatson)  
Beta: 1Grrl4Vic <=== she's a saint, by the way.  
  


_Disclaimer: The two much abused charries in this belong to Marvel. It's a shame, we would treat them better if they were ours. This is non-profit.  
_

  
- --------- - --  
  
She pulled her hair up in it's customary ponytail, putting on only the minimum of makeup, and eyed herself in the mirror. A pair of older but well-kept jeans, a nice heavy sweatshirt, her favorite pair of earrings... yep, she was ready.  
  
Birdy was going shopping.  
  
And her boss? The big, feral, wildman himself? He was the one taking her.  
  
Giving herself one last look-over, she walked out of her room and did her absolute best not to smile. But in truth, she was looking forward to this -- it had been a long time since she had gone shopping for anything other than groceries and necessities, and it was even better that he was paying.  
  
Creed was waiting with a scowl on his face reminiscent of thunder. In fact, to see just how dark the look was, thunder might even retreat. He wasn't a happy man. No... amend that... he was just downright pissed off.  
  
"Ready?" Birdy asked, brightly, taking complete and utter advantage of the fact that he couldn't and wouldn't be able to do one damn thing about it. A bet's a bet, a win's a win, and she won this time.  
  
The only answer Vic would give was a raise of his lip, a narrowing of his eyes, and he grabbed his jacket. The entire time, he told himself over and over that he would never again make a bet with Birdy, especially if it meant taking her to the absolute Hellhole of a place that she insisted on going to.  
  
The mall.  
  
Even the thought sent a shiver down his spine.  
  
Birdy meekly enough slipped her own coat on, heading for the door. She didn't really need to go to the mall, but she knew it would drive him completely bonkers, and that's why she did it. There were a few occasions that he needed put in his place, and this was one of them.  
  
For some odd reason, he drove much slower than normal. To Birdy, the drive took an eternity. To Vic, it seemed all too short.  
  
The parking lot was crowded with minivans and yuppimobiles, as he pulled his Sunfire (the most sensible car in his entire collection) into a free space. Frowning slightly at the dashboard, he muttered, "Maybe I should check th' oil."  
  
Birdy rolled her blue eyes. He was stalling... apparently the thought hadn't crossed his mind that the sooner they got it over with, the sooner he could get home and away from the throngs of teenyboppers, PTA moms, screaming kids, and general cretins that usually spend most of their free time there. "You can check it later. Now come on."  
  
Victor growled at her. She normally wouldn't be able to get away with giving him any sort of order, but a bet's a bet and a win's a win. Slowly and reluctantly, he got out of the car, locking the doors. As if on cue, a child began crying an aisle over, and he cringed at the grating sound on his sensitive ears. Never again. Ever.  
  
The main entrance to the mall was surrounded by teens smoking, pretending to be cool, and he snatched a cigarette off one of them before walking in. The teen opened his mouth to protest, took a good look at the huge man, and decided it would be smarter not to.  
  
"Sir? This is a no-- gack!"  
  
"Shove it up yer ass, shorty."  
  
Birdy gave him a look that threatened, "If you don't quit and we get kicked out, I'm going to mind-lock your dumb ass and make you dress in drag." Sure, he'd beat her senseless for it, but the threat was by no means a joke. She held his gaze, a defiant staring match of green meeting blue, then she mouthed, "A bet's a bet."  
  
His upper lip twitched in a snarl and he let go of the little suited man who had dared to try and make him drop his smoke. The man took off, trailing behind a yellow stream.  
  
Birdy smiled warmly at the group of shocked onlookers, turning up the charm on both a physical and telepathic level, and took Vic's arm, pulling him insistently towards the first store.  
  
It was a boutique.  
  
He almost wanted to turn and run. No, he did want to turn and run, but he couldn't. A bet's a bet, a win's a win, and damn that little bitch, she won.  
  
  
  
"How's this look?" Birdy asked, holding a long gown against her to show off. She was delighting in the completely dejected look she got in return.  
  
"Nice," Vic answered, that having been his mantra for the past hour. And it did look nice... Birdy could dress up, and she could be anything between downright gorgeous to hometown cute. But he felt the amused looks of the clerks, and it sure didn't do wonders for his entire concept of self. Men did not let women drag them into Dillards to critique dresses. Men did not allow themselves to be pulled into an herbal remedy store for energy tablets. Men did not tolerate being pulled from store to store in search of the illusive 'perfect outfit'.  
  
Needless to say, Victor Creed had never in his life been in a real relationship before. Otherwise, he might have been prepared for just how much women could do... be it on a bet, on a plea, or by threatening to cut off their sex supply. The thought of sex briefly broke through the haze... if he had won, they would have never gotten out of his bedroom.  
  
Birdy piled the clothes on his lap, ruffling his hair affectionately. She had to admit, it was nice doing something almost normal with the man... usually they were too busy killing people, or she was too busy keeping him from killing people to enjoy some of the simpler things in life. Of course, the close proximity with society was making him crazy, but with any luck, he'd be too tired and dazed to pick a fight when they finally got back home. "C'mon, we really have to go check out Payless. I hear they have a sale on."  
  
As she walked away, she could have sworn she heard him whimper.  
  
  
Four hours. He was starting to have hallucinations about shoes, sales, little perky clerks. Another whiny brat started up as the yuppy mother haggled over returning a pack of underwear.  
  
Vic actually wanted to cry.  
  
He was surrounded by idiots... little idiots, big idiots, fat idiots and thin idiots. If he had a beef with society before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling after the longest four hours of his life. He *hated* them. He despised them on ever possible level of his being. He tried to imagine pulling their intestines from their bodies and dangling them in front of their faces...   
  
Okay, he felt a little better now.  
  
Birdy finished getting the seven pairs of shoes she liked, adding another bag to bring the grand total to eight that Creed was carrying. Yep, he was looking pretty well gone... had that glazed over, "someone put me outta my misery" gaze. She smiled slightly to herself. "Ready to go home?"  
  
The look he gave her was heartbreakingly hopeful. "Hell yea."  
  
They started back out, and this time she actually had to jog to keep up. Just before they hit the doors, though, the PA announced, "Blue light special on all bedding at Reisman's." Birdy stopped, grabbing Vic by the arm to bring him up short. "I need a few new pillows... I'll be right back." He had clawed hers to pieces last time they'd fooled around in her room. She turned to head back, and heard what could almost (almost being the key word) be described as a sob.  
  
She stopped. She looked back. Christ, he looked pathetic. Had that entire puppy-dog in distress thing going on. The mass-murdering psychopath was at the end of his already frayed rope. The telepath sighed in resignation -- he had suffered enough. "Okay, okay... let's get out of here."  
  
She had to literally run to keep up.  
  
  
  
The sound of the shower cut out, as Birdy finished putting away all of her new clothes and othersuch. She was just about ready to deal with a pissed off Victor, though she was still hoping that he would remain halfway docile. Given the sound of a door slamming, she couldn't count on that, though... at least she had something to show for it if he decided to get mean.  
  
Oddly enough, he didn't show up to rage and shout. After she was fairly convinced he wasn't going to bust in and go nutso on her, she turned the lights out and slipped into bed.  
  
A few moments passed, her door opened, closed, and she felt Vic slide in next to her. It wasn't often he fell asleep in her room, but every once in a while he would, usually after a particularly wild fuck. She prepared herself for just that.  
  
He shoved a pillow from his own bed in her direction.  
  
She took it, raising an eyebrow, lightly scanning over his thoughts... it made her smile when she picked up one in the forefront. _"Never again. Ever."_ There sure wasn't any notions leading to a romp in the hay, more along the lines of tired out and so relieved to be home and away from the crowds that he was as pliable as he ever got.  
  
"Never again," Vic affirmed, drowsily, moving in closer.  
  
Birdy stroked a hand down his back, feeling his near deadweight against her like a blanket, and smiled wider for it. "It wasn't my fault the squirrel didn't take the bait. I told you they weren't cannibalistic."  
  



End file.
